


Something Broken

by imgilmoregirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Angst, Divorced Rumbelle, F/M, One Shot, Season 7 Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 18:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12513432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgilmoregirl/pseuds/imgilmoregirl
Summary: Belle was brought to Hyperion Heights by the curse too, but there she is Isobel, detective Weaver's ex-wife, for who he is still totally in love with.Written for the A Monthly Rumbelling prompt: “You said you’d always be there for me…so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?”





	Something Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show. This is just a fanwork made for fun.
> 
> This story is now updated. It was revised by my amazing beta Ethereal_Wishes.  
> Oh, I'm posting this fic so close to the end of the month! Truth be told I played with different scenarios for this prompt until I ended up with part of the dialogue of this One-Shot, but I only managed to finish it now and I was kind of inspired by 7x03, so it may contain some very minor spoilers if you haven't seen it. Then, here I bring you guys another of my crazy AU's, so I do hope you enjoy what I came with this time.

Dealing with Rogers was starting to frustrate him. By the time  Weaver chose his new partner, he thought that this time he had done something right, but then that stupid one-handed man started to gain some confidence and seemed insistent on doing anything that could rid them of Victoria Belfrey.  Not that this wasn't what he desired too, but being reckless was not the way they were going to pull her down.

He had been following his partner around, lingering in the shadows the whole morning, until his cell-phone started to ring and the number of his son's school appearing on the screen arrested his attention. Weaver quickly picked up the call, hearing the hurried explanation of the teacher as she said that Gideon probably had a broken arm, and he was ready to go to his car and rush to the school, when he saw Rogers entering the restaurant, and he knew that he would need to fix his mess. The detective rung  out his phone, promising himself that as soon as he finished with this, he was going to look out for his boy.

However, it took longer than expected to clean up Roger's mess, so when he finally finished his job and warned the new detective about the dangers of working behind his back, he entered his car and went to the school, just to find out that his ex-wife Isobel had already taken their boy to the hospital.

So there he was, playing with his car keys while walking through the white corridors in search for someone that could give him any information about his son and that was when he saw her: auburn hair pulled up in a ponytail, wearing jeans and a pink blouse and looking a lot younger than she really was. Isobel was biting down on her lip, arms folded against her chest as she stared transfixed on one of the hallways.

He approached slowly, unsure of how to start a conversation when they barely spoke ever since their last big argument, a year ago. But then, this was for Gideon and they always put him first.

"They called me from the school," began Weaver, starling her and making Isobel turn around with an angry look on her face.

"Yeah, around five hours ago, I suppose."

A long, deep sigh, left Weaver. Isobel had been this bitter with him for too long now, and he knew that she still blamed him for how things ended in their marriage, but there was a time in the past when they were genuinely happy and truly loved each other. But, well kind of later than sooner, Isobel realised how much of a bastard he was and asked for the divorce. Some small part of him always knew that they were fated to end badly, but the devotion she had for him blinded Weaver for a long time, making him believe that it was possible for them to live happily together. It only increased by the news of her pregnancy, that gave them their precious Gideon. This foolishly gave him hope.

Now-a-days, he only saw his son during the weekends or after school on Wednesdays. And Isobel... His dear Isobel hated him.

"I was working," he explained, "I couldn't get here immediately. I went to the school and they told me that you had already taken him to the hospital."

"I did, because I was there five minutes after they called," she remarked in a clipped tone.

Of course she was. One of the greatest things he admired about her was how she was a such a good mother, but today it only served to irritate him.

"Where is my son?"

"Getting  an x-ray," Isobel whispered, glancing away.

That was when he noticed that she had tears in her eyes and was trying to wipe them before he noticed, however she wasn't fast enough. Taking a deep breath, Weaver stepped forward to touch her arm.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm anything but alright, Weaver," she said, pulling away from him. "You know, the day we got married you made me a lot of stupid promises and being  the naïve girl that I was, I believed then, but now I know that I was nothing more than a fool."

"Belle - " the name slipped out of his mouth like an old love song, beautiful and sad.

When they were married, he called her Belle very often, because as much as he wasn't one too used to nicknames, he thought that it suited her so perfectly, and  he couldn't help himself by saying it over and over again. And she used to love that, she used to curl herself on his lap and say that she was being a bad girl that needed to be investigated by the local detective. He would call her Belle when they were alone, but he would call her that as well on any other occasion he desired too, and they were blissfully in love, instead of what they were in that hospital that day: angry and bitter.

She shook her head at him, more tears escaping her eyes which made his heart race in agony. He longed to touch her face, to kiss her lips, but he wasn't going to give in to that. He was too stubborn.

"You said you'd always be there for me, so how did this happen?" Belle asked, gesticulating between them. "I've been raising our child all alone for years while you've been solving your freaking crimes. Gideon didn't ask for any of this, but you let him down too, he has a broken arm and a shattered heart, because he has been asking for you ever since I picked him up at school. Now tell me, Weaver, why weren't you there when we needed you?"

"You didn't contend on our marriage to last either!"

Weaver couldn't believe that they were yelling at each other in the middle of the hospital, blaming the other for something which both were clearly guilty of.

"I should have listened to my father when he told me that marrying you was the worst mistake of my life," Isobel mumbled.

"Yeah," he agreed, "maybe you should've."

He was so mad that he didn't realise that a small figure had stopped in front of them and was looking between the pair with wide brown eyes, while cradling his injured arm with the opposite hand.

"Mommy?" Gideon queried, "Daddy?"

"Hey, sweetheart," Belle kneeled beside him, wiping her cheeks and putting on a smile. "You already took that x-ray?"

The boy nodded, his expression showing some insecurity. "The doctor said that they wilI need to put a cast on my arm. Can you sit by my side while he does it?"

"Of course, I can."

Isobel rose to her feet, running her fingers through Gideon's hair as she started to lead him back to the hallway from where he'd came from, but the boy stopped, looking over his shoulder to where Weaver was, still standing in the same spot, unsure of what he should do next.

"Aren't you coming, daddy?"

"Sure, my boy," he smiled, following the two of them inside the room where the doctor was waiting to put the cast on Gideon's arm.

Weaver watched patiently while his boy had this arm immobilized.  Belle stroked his back nervously the whole time. The doctor said that they should come back there in six weeks to see if they could  take the cast off, and told Gideon to take care of the arm, then he let them go. He accompanied his son and ex-wife to the parking lot.

"How did you get this broken arm?"

"Running," he shrugged. "Me and my friends were just playing during our lunch break, but then I stumbled and fell."

A sideways grin  appeared on his lips as he remembered how many times Isobel had fallen down by accident or just dropped something and broken it.

"You're getting as clumsy as your mom, huh?"

That made Belle stop walking, and she turned around, opening the door of her tiny blue car and gesticulating for the boy to get in.

"Gid, go wait inside."

Nodding, Gideon hugged his father quickly before obediently settling himself in the backseat of the car. Weaver looked at Isobel's eyes, noticing how they were narrowed in annoyance.

"You can take your weekend by yourself," she informed him, "I'll take care of him."

Both his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"It is my weekend, Isobel."

"And I'm sorry, but I don't care," she snapped. "He needs attention, and I know that whenever you spend the weekend with him, you let Gideon do everything he wants while you analyse your cases."

Not that this wasn't true, but it hurt Weaver to hear the accusation leave her lips. He loved his son more than anything in this world and it wasn't fair that she trying to keep them apart because she thought that he didn't do a great job as a father.

"I'm not an irresponsible, I can take care of my child!"

"Try next week, detective," Isobel said, opening the driver's door and sitting in front of the steering wheel. "I won't have him breaking another arm so soon."

Shutting the door, she started driving and the car disappeared down the street, leaving Weaver stewing in his anger.

"Whoa, she is good at beating you down with words," he heard somebody say behind him.

The voice was a well-known one, and he didn't even need to turn around to know that he would find the blonde girl in that same old plaid red shirt.

"What are you doing here?"

Tilly shrugged, looking around without any specific interest.

"Thought you wanted me to follow Henry Mills around, and I seen him in the cemetery last night."

"Not exactly interesting," Weaver pointed out, still thinking about Belle and his boy and wanting more than nothing than for Tilly to go away.

He started to make the way to his own black car, but the blonde girl followed him.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Why do I have the feeling that even if I say no, you are going to ask it anyway?"

"Because you know that I will," Tilly said in a that playful tone of hers that used to irritate him. "So, why did you divorce Isobel? You're clearly still in love with her, I can see it in those puppy eyes you make every time she is near."

And that was a conversation that he wasn't intending to have with her of all people, not that he really would ever discuss his relationship with Isobel with anyone, but Tilly was a foolish young girl and despite her clearly bad inclination, probably still dreamed of true love. However, he couldn't just say that she was wrong, because she wasn't. His heart still beat for Belle.

"We weren't right for each other," he sighed. "Now can you please go do something else and leave me alone?"

"I'd like to have a mom like her," Tilly muttered. "She is so dedicated."

Turning around, Weaver looked her in the eyes, putting on a threatening face. "Why are you still here?"

Tilly opened her backpack and took a white and blue chipped teacup from there, one that he had last seen in another life. Weaver was hit by a wave of memories that made him dizzy, and he needed to lean against his car as not to fall at the sight of it.

"I found it on your apartment today," the girl explained. "Can you tell me why do you keep something so damaged inside a safe?"

Swallowing hard, Weaver stretched a hand to get it from her. "Go away, Tilly."

"But - "

"Go!"

Seeming to be angry, Tilly turned her back to him and disappeared between the cars, but he needed to take a moment to breath before he managed to open his car door and settle himself inside, still fighting to organize the new memories in his head.

He wasn't detective Weaver. No, he was Rumplestiltskin and the woman that he had met in the hospital wasn't his ex-wife Isobel. She was just Belle, the only one that could have loved him and damn that curse for separating them, but now that he was awake, he wasn't going to let anything get between them.

"Oh, sweetheart," Rumplestiltskin whispered, looking down at the chipped cup. "I'm sorry."

It was time to fix things.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
